Star Butterfly Saves Christmas
by JesusChristonastick
Summary: Star Butterfly wants to learn about Christmas on Earth, Jeb Bush wants to be president of the United States, and Marco gets caught in the middle of it all. Nothing seems to work out this holiday season, and nothing gets any better when a all-too-well-known evil makes itself known.


**CHAPTER UNO  
THE NIGHT BEFORE, THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS EVE**

"For you, sir. Apparently it's urgent," said the advisor to the presidential candidate, "we really need to stop ignoring these calls before people start getting suspicious of what we're doing with the campaign money."  
"Fucking Christ, I get it already," said the late Jeb Bush, brother of the former president, George W. Bush and son of the earlier George H.W. Bush, "I get that these people can't keep to themselves, but what the shit do they think they're going to get out of us? I'm not even the goddamned president, yet, and they're already bombarding me with these fucking responsibilities!"

Jeb's advisor looked down at the floor, took a deep breath and did the best possible to tolerate the ignorance which spouted from the candidate's mouth, "sir, you're polling in last place - 'Jeb 2016' fell three percent below Christie earlier this morning." Jeb aggressively spit out his aged, oak whiskey, turned his swivel chair around and stood up to the best of his ability, attempting to maneuver despite his intoxication.  
"You mean to tell me we're trolling behind the most hated man in the political scene? You better be joking with me, I swear to god almighty. This shit is not going to happen today, I fucking can't-"  
"Well sir," his advisor butted in, "while I wouldn't say you're the most hated, you are technically the least popular when it comes to the potential nominees."  
Jeb shot a snarl in the direction of his advisor-gone-critic before taking another swig of whiskey and taking a seat once again.

"You know what this campaign needs? Something that will get the kids excited about a third Bush in the Whitehouse. We need something that will make them say, 'you know, that Jeb is a real swell guy, a lot better than the media hawks make him out to be' all while securing tens of millions of voters for the next four years. _THAT_ is what the fuck this campaign needs," said the former Florida governor.

The advisor was once again looking down at the ground, once again taking in a deep breath, which would be used to once again criticize Jeb..  
"Mr. Bush, I'm sorry that I have to say this -" the advisor began to say but was immediately interrupted.  
"I don't want to hear any more excuses. I want results," said Jeb. He picked up a box of cigars, took one out of the wrapping, lit it and dragged in a long puff of tobacco.  
"Mr. Bush, I'm leaving," said the advisor.

"You're fucking what?" replied Jeb with a cigar still hanging out of his mouth

"I'm retiring my title as your advisor. You can now refer to me by my name, Caitlyn," she said.  
"Listen, Bruce, you can't go. You're the lifeblood of this campaign and without you everyone will just call me a bigot and a loser!" replied Jeb, with a sort of contrived insincerity.  
He tried to reach out his hands in an effort to hug his now retired advisor but was immediately pushed away by an angry Caitlyn Jenner, complete with a disgruntled expression.

"First off, my name is Caitlyn," the once gold winning athlete turned transwoman said with disgust in her voice, "and second, don't ever try and coerce me into enduring any more of your slave labor! This is over, done, nothing more!"

Jeb quickly through his face into his hands and began to act as though he was crying, all while falling to the floor and kicking his feet, to which Caitlyn crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

"For Christ's sake, would you stop?" She demanded the politician.

"No, everybody hates me - even you. Even you hate me, now. I can't stand this world anymore; I'm going home to listen to My Chemical Romance and eat ice cream," replied a Jeb who was still putting on an unconvincing sob performance.  
"Jeb, stop this shit right now," said Caitlyn, "this is the reason you're losing the race and why everyone hates you."  
Jeb's crocodile tears continued to flow as he looked up at the transgendered republican with a face that resembled a retarded puppy, "but what can I do? If I don't have you on my side I'm ruined, and the political humiliation will follow me for the rest of my career… if I even have one!"  
Jeb's head returned into his arms as his act grew more and more pathetic for each minute that passed. He began tossing his legs around and knocking small decor off the cabinets aligned around his small office, all while leaving a footprint on the wall from his muddied shoe and successfully knocking one of the legs holding up his fragile desk, which came toppling down on top of him.  
There he lie, with a broken office desk pinning him to the ground and a transgendered woman lost for words at a display that screamed nothing short of, "zero self control". A small whine, this time not in an attempt to garner attention, came out of Jeb's throat.

"Goddammit, Jeb, get up. We'll think of something else in the meantime," said Caitlyn.

"Marrrrrrrrrco," called the blonde haired, sparkle-eyed girl from another dimension, "Marco, where are you?" Star continued to call as she looked for him around the Diaz family home, which she was most graciously allowed to stay during her duration on Earth. With no prevail, Star resorted to the only surefire way to get Marco's Attention. "Marco, I'm pregnant!" she screamed.

The whispanic boy came running down the hall, gasping for air while gripping his chest, with wide, bloodshot eyes focused on Star, who greeted him with a large smile followed up with innocent expression.

"Oh, Marco, you're so stupid. You fall for that every time," said Star as she brushed off her last act as though it was nothing more than a clever joke.

"That's not funny!" retaliated Marco, who was still in the process of catching his breath.

Star giggled and shook her head, "I'm only preparing you for the day this isn't just a way of getting you to answer."

"My parents would kill me!" Marco replied with panic in his voice, "besides, you have that wand. Just undo the damage done."

Star gave a small shrug, "Your parents aren't the ones encouraging you to bust inside of me," said Star. She then turned and walked away, leaving Marco to himself. "Wait, Star," yelled Marco, "what did you want to tell me?"

Star turned back around and tapped her index finger on her way perfectly round chin, trying to remember what she was going to tell the young lad.

"Oh yeah, I remember now, she said, "your parents and _my_ parents have set up an arranged marriage."

Marco had tuned out Star and replied with "oh, okay".

"Well, alright. See you in a bit," said Star as she headed out the door".

"Bye," said Marco.

He remained completely unaware of the current discussion for the next five minutes, until his mind finally processes everything Star had said. Suddenly his eyes grew wide, his pupils dilated, all which have rise to a pounding heart. "M-my p-p-parents what?" He said aloud to himself.

"This shit is all your fault, you know that?" Jeb screamed at his wife, "if I wouldn't have married you, then this whole debacle with Trump would have never left me in a fucking foxhole." Jeb at his wife as he walked towards the woman half his size, "You could have stopped me, you could have saved me years of public humiliation, but you just _had_ to be first lady!" At this point Columbia had begun to cry, pleading with Jeb to get a grip over his anger.  
"You've lost it, you've finally lost it," she cried, "you let this whole campaign get the best of you, just like I knew it would."  
"What the living fuck do you want me to do," retaliated her husband, "I built my legacy with the help of the people, the voters. If I lose them then I'm a goner: going the way of Rubio."  
Jeb sat down on a kitchen chair and put the ice pack back to his face, which he was using to help reduce the swelling of a lower Jaw, injured after a recent confrontation with Caitlyn.

"He kicked your ass, you know," said Columbia as she wiped away the tears.  
"She, dear. _She_ kicked my ass. Jenner is extremely sensitive about her pronouns being misused by us _cis_ folk," he said with a hint of ill will directed to the woman he used to love.

It hadn't been like this for either of them up until this very point, and no one knew why. Well, no one but Jeb, of course. The truth was, the campaign wasn't ever about "America", "healthcare", "jobs" or "social security". Not once did he ever give two rotten shits what happened to the country, or the citizens who were so eager to vote for anyone but him. The truth was, he wanted to win the election to save something he held more dear than his own wife: Santa Claus.

Yes, the Jolly, old man in the North Pole was not only the reason for the season, but also for every election each and every four years!

You thought presidents get elected because they love their country and want to make changes? Oh, go to hell. The only reason anyone runs for president is because they get to meet Santa and deliver presidents with him every single Christmas Eve. Why else would someone pay millions of dollars to just get into office and do nothing but bullshit and sell themselves off to Exxon?

Marco was following star as they both walked back from the park with warm hot chocolate in both of their palms and decorated from head to toe with insulated clothing, to keep out the cold which had begun to make itself more and more well known. Eventually, the whole town felt like an icicle trapped inside a never ending vortex of snow and relentless, bone chilling wind.

"So, you call this time of the year 'Christmas'?" asked Star to Marco, who clutched his coat even tighter as they walked closer to the winter storm.  
"Yeah," he said, "it's a time of year that we all give gifts to each other and eat lots of fattening foods."

The duo stopped in front of a retro style diner with an "open" sign displayed vividly behind a nearly iced over door. Most everything was closed due to the harshness of recent weather.

"Who's that guy," said Star as she pointed to a picture of a fat man dressed in red, with a long, white beard that clung to the window of the diner.  
"Oh, that's Santa Claus," said Marco, "the story goes that he delivers presents to all good boys and girls, all around the world, on Christmas Eve. But all the bad kids get coal. I've gotten coal for the past five years, but that's because my parents are cheap."

Star looked puzzled, "Santa Claus? Don't you mean 'Jeb Bush'," she asked.  
"Jeb Bush," replied Marco, looking equally confused, "no, no, no, Star. Jeb Bush is running for president. Santa is the one who brings us presents."

Star knocked herself on the forehead, "oh of course!" she exclaimed, "I'm from another dimension!™"  
Marco nodded, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Jeb Bush played the role of Santa Claus where Star came from. He could only imagine Jeb's big smile as he gave gifts to all the Mexican Hispanic boys and girls. Still, the idea that a man running for president would be _the_ Santa Claus… that was preposterous.

"We should get home," said Star, "the snow is picking up and unless we make it inside soon, I'm afraid we might be part of the cold." Star turned around and headed in the direction of the Diaz house when suddenly the hot chocolate fell from her hands and she grasped her stomach, then falling to her knees.  
"Oh no, Star!" cried Marco, as he ran over to help her up, "are you alright?"  
"I can do it, don't worry," she assured him as she loosened her grasp and looked up at Marco.

"M-Marco, there's something I need to tell you," she said, staring at the ground with a look of worry overtaking her whole character, "I-I'm pregnant."

Marco went white, he too dropped his hot chocolate and fear overtook his eyes. Either he was going to cry or throw up, Star couldn't tell.

"Oh my GOD, Marco," Star screamed, followed by a fit of laughter, "you did it again! You are so gullible and so stupid!" Eventually the laughter turned into Star clutching her stomach, but instead of pain from pregnancy it was pain from laughter, as she rolled on the snow-covered ground.  
"Star, that is NOT funny," screamed Marco in a moment of fury, "this is NOT okay."  
"No, it is VERY funny and VERY okay," she said, followed by a snort and continued laughter.

Suddenly Star looked up at Marco as a big grin started to form across her face. "I'm telling your parents," she said.  
"You wouldn't," Marco said, his eyes growing huge with fear.  
"Oh, Marco, I would. In fact, I will," Star said with a massive smile, nodding her head, "I'm telling your parents: Marco Diaz got me, Star _**Diaz**_ , pregnant."

She took off to the house at full speed, blowing a raspberry to the boy trying desperately to catch up with her. Marco put one foot in front of the other, his boots plowing through nearly a foot of snow with each leap. There was no way he was going to let Star ruin his life until he was 18. His parents were strict, and they were incredibly strict on not EVER going into Star's room after 9:00. "Star," he screamed with exhaustion in his voice, "please, you gotta think what my parents will do to me!"

"Oh, I know what they'll do to you," said Star, not nearly as winded as Marco, "And it'll be _super_ awkward from here on out!"

Sometimes, Marco couldn't tell whether Star was fighting the forces of evil or was a force of evil, herself.


End file.
